


Scars

by Adolphus Longestaffe (adolphus_longestaffe)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, angst porn and plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-06-30 04:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15744207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adolphus_longestaffe/pseuds/Adolphus%20Longestaffe
Summary: Scars tell the story of a soldier's life. Keep a record of the wounds that have made him who he is. But what happens when those scars begin to fade?





	1. Chapter 1

 

 

So maybe the scars wasn’t the first thing Jesse noticed about him, but that was only on account of he was facedown in the dirt too fast to get a good look at him. First thing he noticed was the elbow in his mouth that made him cuss and spit blood. Second had to be the knee between his shoulder blades, crushing his breath out while he was gettin’ handcuffed. Third was the man’s voice. Smoky and smooth and smug as all get-out. Till Jesse hauled back and headbutted him in the mouth. Then it was growly and rough like a foul-mouthed gravel road.

When they set there glarin’ at each other across a metal table in an interrogation room, they had matching busted lips. They had the same stitches for a while, too, only the one on Reyes healed faster. Then they had a matching scar. Little white lines extending down a quarter inch from the bottom lip on the right side of each of their mouths. Like they done it on purpose to mark each other out. But Reyes had lots of scars all over his face, like a story in some ancient tribal language. Jesse only had the one.

First time Jesse kissed him, he touched that little scar with the tip of his tongue. They were on a mission in Russia and they’d been freezin’ their dicks off in a sniper nest all day. When they come back to the safehouse, Reyes was in a shitty mood on account of the cold and the bad intel. He got on the phone with HQ and cussed out everyone he could think of. Then he had his shower and got into his black tank top and sweats. Jesse pretended he was watchin’ TV while he watched him trim his goatee and moustache in the bathroom mirror.

The safehouse was just a shitty motel, so they had two beds in one room. Reyes come in and told Jesse to turn that fuckin’ TV off and go to sleep. Jesse called him a cranky old bear and Reyes told him he had enough of his lip. Jesse said he reckoned he ain’t. Reyes told him to shut the fuck up before his mouth wrote a check his ass couldn’t cash.

Maybe it was on account of the cold seepin’ into him all day froze his brain, but Jesse didn’t back down. He got up in Reyes’ face. Looked him right in those fierce-as-fuck brown eyes. Then he grabbed his commander and kissed him like he lost his goddamned mind. Reyes made a sound so smack-dab in the middle between a growl and groan, Jesse couldn’t tell which it was if you give him a whole case of bourbon to do it. He was pretty sure he was fixin’ to die in a minute, but what a way to go.

Reyes shoved him against the wall and said, “What the fuck are you doing?”

Jesse woulda liked to say somethin’ smart back, but he was scared shitless and shakin’ pretty hard, and he couldn’t think of nothin’ but them twin shotguns and how loud they was gonna be with the barrels up against his skull.

“I’m real sorry, boss,” was about all his stupid mouth could manage. “Please…don’t kill me.”

Reyes didn’t let him go. He kept him pinned there and stared at him like he never seen him before. Jesse was makin’ his peace with God, but then the man kinda fell into him. Pushed his face into Jesse’s neck and breathed real deep. Then he said, “Jesse…Jesus Christ,” all husky and low, like he was prayin’. Like he was already askin’ for forgiveness for how he was fixin’ to sin.

If it was sin, then fuck it. Jesse already decided he was a damned sinner and he wasn’t even sorry, neither. He stuck his fingers in that buzz-cut, almost-black hair like he always wanted to, and it felt just like he always thought it would. Real thick and velvety, kinda like pettin’ a pug-dog. Reyes lifted his head up and leaned in like he was gonna kiss him, but Jesse pulled back and just traced that little scar with the tip of his tongue.

Reyes laughed and damned if that laugh didn’t just make Jesse’s insides go all wobbly. Curled up in his belly like hot pudding and made him warm all over. His legs melted out from under him, but Reyes had a hold of him and didn’t let him fall. He grabbed Jesse’s ass with both hands and picked him up like he didn’t weigh nothin’. He carried him to his bed, then he laid down and pulled Jesse down on top of him. Jesse rocked his hips and Reyes made a little grunt, so he did it again.

This time, Jesse put his mouth on Reyes’ mouth, and Reyes let him kiss him and grind on him till they both got hot and out of breath, and Jesse’s dick was aching and drooling in his underwear. He could feel Reyes’ big, thick dick through his sweatpants, rock-hard and ready. He went to stick his hand inside the waistband, but Reyes grabbed his wrist.

“Wait, Jesse,” he said. “Wait a minute. We have to talk about this.”

Jesse wasn’t about to let the moment get away, though. Not when he’d been jerkin’ himself dry thinkin’ about this for two years.

“Aw, come on, boss,” he said, trying to twist himself free. “I reckon I know what I’m doin’. I ain’t a virgin or nothin’.”

“Glad to hear it,” Reyes said, with that sarcastic kinda half-smile he had. “But that’s not what I meant. I meant that this is…complicated. I’m your commanding officer and I am much, much older than you.”

Jesse just stared at him.

Reyes frowned. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m tryina figure out why you sittin’ here listin’ off shit I already know instead of fuckin’ me,” Jesse said. “Is this one of them things where I’m supposed to figure out what the riddle is?”

“Jesse, I’m serious. Are you…sure you want to do this?”

“No, I don’t.”

“You—wait, you don’t?”

“Fuckin’ course I do,” Jesse retorted. He’d got his hands loose by now and snuck ‘em up under Reyes’ tank top and god the man’s skin felt like heaven. “You want me to beg or somethin’?”

“Smartass,” Reyes grumbled, but he didn’t try to stop him again. “I should put you over my knee.”

“Now you just teasin’,” Jesse said, with a wicked grin.

He pushed Reyes’ shirt up and finally got his mouth on him. Buried his face in the hard ridges of his abdomen, biting and licking and sucking bruises into his skin. His chest and stomach were covered in scars, too. Jesse looked at ‘em and touched ‘em while he swallowed that big, gorgeous dick as best he could. Deep, vicious stabs, long, curved slashes and constellations of starburst bullet wounds…the story of a soldier’s courage, carved into his dusky-bronze hide.

When Reyes was holding him down and fucking him within an inch of his life, and afterward, when Jesse was drifting off to sleep, safe and warm and wrapped up in his arms, he was still thinking about those scars. How beautiful and precious each one was.

 

 

They didn’t fuck for a while after that and Reyes didn’t say nothin’ about it. Jesse kept his mouth shut and waited. And waited. He got more and more impatient until one day, he had enough. He cornered Reyes in his office and jumped on him like a wildcat. Reyes made a sound like “oof” and then he said, “Jesus fuck, Jesse,” and sat down hard on the sofa while Jesse tongue-fucked his mouth and rocked his ass on his dick through their pants.

After a minute Reyes pushed him back and looked at him real serious. “Jesse, why are you doing this?”

“Cause you still got your clothes on,” Jesse said, tugging impatiently at his black undershirt.

“I didn’t mean why are you trying to ruin my shirt, pendejo. I meant why are you doing…this?”

“I want you,” Jesse panted, like a overheated dog. “I want you to fuck me.”

Reyes dropped his eyes. “Why would you want a horrible, ugly old man like me?”

“Nice try, boss,” Jesse snorted. “I know you got at least one workin’ mirror in your place cause I been in there. You ain’t ugly by a damn sight and you know it, too.”

“So, you…really want me?”

“Oh, I get it. I’m supposed to beg.” Jesse leaned in real close and stuck his lips right up against Reyes’ ear, then he crooned out real soft and breathy, “Please, boss. Please fuck me. I’ll do anything, just give it to me, please.”

“Alright, you little demon,” Reyes said. “But don’t call me boss when were doing this, ok?”

Jesse pulled back and raised an eyebrow. “What you want me to call you? Daddy?”

“Christ, no,” Reyes said, with one of them gut-melting laughs. “Just…call me Gabriel.”

Jesse’s heart stopped beating. His tongue went numb and he couldn’t respond. All he could do was stare at the man with his eyes all big and round like stupid saucers. He musta gone white as a sheet, too, cause Reyes asked him if he was sick.

“I ain’t sick,” Jesse managed to croak out. He swallowed hard cause his heart was still tryina escape out his throat. “I’m just fine, Ga—Gabriel.”

Reyes grabbed him and kissed him so hard it scared him, pulling back just long enough to growl, “Say it again.”

“Gabriel,” Jesse gasped, between forceful kisses. “Gabriel—I want you.”

Reyes cussed under his breath. “I don’t have any lube.”

“I got some,” Jesse said. “In my pocket.”

“You carry lube around with you?” Reyes laughed. He stuck his hand in and fished out the silver packet. “You little whore. Take off your pants and get on my dick.”

Jesse got up and kicked his boots off, then peeled out of his pants and underwear. Reyes got his pants hitched down and and ripped open the packet of lube. Jesse watched him slick up his big, heavy cock, then he straddled his lap and grabbed hold of it. He got the round, slippery head lined up and started to push himself down on it.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Reyes said. “Slow down.”

“It don’t hurt too much,” Jesse puffed. “Fuck. You’re so—ah! so fuckin’ big.”

Jesse worked himself onto it till it bottomed out. By the time he was saddled, Jesse’s dick was hot and throbbing, and drooling all over Reyes’ stomach. He could feel Reyes all the way inside him, stretching and burning and aching, but it was the good kinda ache, low and deep down. He wanted more. He bucked up a little and rocked back down.

“Good,” Reyes said hoarsely. “Good boy. Fuck yourself on my cock. I want to watch you come for me.”

Jesse rolled his hips and started to jerk himself off, but Reyes caught him by both wrists.

“No,” he said, pinning Jesse’s hands behind his back. “No hands. Make yourself come on my cock.”

“I never come like that before,” Jesse almost whined. “I don’t—I don’t think I can.”

“You can, and you will,” Reyes said calmly. “I can do this all day, if that’s what it takes.”

Jesse looked apprehensively into those fierce, dark-brown eyes, and started moving again.

“Stop thinking about how it feels for me,” Reyes said. “Do it how it feels good for you. Show me how you like to be fucked.”

Jesse spread his knees wider and changed his angle, working himself up and down on Reyes’ rigid shaft, raking the blunt head over his prostate as he moved. Lighting bolts of pleasure-pain snapped through him, coiling in his gut and winding tighter and tighter. His cock was aching, rock hard, and leaking like a goddamned faucet. It looked like he pissed himself and he flushed with embarrassment. But he ignored it and kept bouncing on Reyes’ dick, impaling himself over and over, faster and harder, giving little punched out whines each time it beat into his prostate. He felt sweat beading up and rolling down his chest. The knot it his gut kept aching and swelling and building until he couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Oh, fuck—Gabriel!” Jesse choked out. “I’m gonna—I’m—”

Jesse’s mind whited out as the aching tension peaked, then exploded. He gave a strangled wail and came harder than he’d ever come in his life, spine arched, asshole spasming, dick pulsing and flexing as it spurted thick, white streaks all over Reyes’ dusky-brown stomach. He started to crumple, but Reyes grabbed his hips and pounded into him like a machine, beating his throbbing insides with his ruthless, rock-hard cock till he gave one last sharp, deep thrust and held it. Jesse felt his dick convulsing and spewing warm, slippery fluid inside him.

Then Reyes fell back into the sofa and Jesse fell on his chest and laid there, panting and incoherent. He thought Reyes would push him off any minute, but he just held him and buried his nose in Jesse’s hair. It was so warm and good to be with him like that. All wrapped up in those big strong arms and listenin’ to his heartbeat. After a while, Jesse lifted his head up. Reyes’ eyes were closed.

“Boss,” Jesse whispered. “Hey, boss.”

“What, Jesse,” Reyes said, opening one eye.

“I only had lube in case you wanted to fuck. I ain’t been fuckin’ no one else or nothin’. I just…thought you should know.”

“Good,” Reyes grunted, pushing Jesse’s head back down onto his chest. “You’re mine, now. You better not be with anyone else.”

Jesse stomach did flips like it was tryina show off and he was glad he was layin’ like this, so the boss couldn’t see the big, dumbass grin on his face. He was _his_. Reyes said it himself.

He meant it, too. He gave Jesse the lock code to his quarters and let him sleep there most nights. Jesse even had his own toothbrush and clothes there. After a while, it was almost like a real relationship. Only Jesse learned pretty quickly that possession don’t go both ways. He may belong to Gabriel Reyes, but Gabriel Reyes did not belong to him.

Before dawn one morning, Jesse woke up to Gabriel just getting in. He wouldn’t let Jesse touch him and he went straight into the bathroom and shut the door. Jesse’s stomach got all cold and sick. He knew what that meant. It’d happened before. Too many times. He tried to go back to sleep, but he couldn’t, so he just laid there staring at the wall.

After a while, the shower shut off. He heard Gabriel come in and open and shut his underwear drawer. After a minute, he laid down behind Jesse and wrapped his arms around him. Jealousy wound itself up in a bitter, ugly knot in Jesse’s chest and strangled him till tears came out his eyes. Gabriel felt him shaking and held him tighter.

“Jesse, I’m sorry,” he said softly, pressing his lips to the back of Jesse’s neck. “I love you. I’m so sorry.”

“If you love me, why you still fuckin’ him?” Jesse choked out, through his tears.

Gabriel sighed. “It’s…complicated.”

“It ain’t complicated not stickin’ your dick in the Strike-Commander, Gabriel. The rest of us get along just fine without doin’ it.”

“Jack was my husband, Jesse. We have a lot of history together. I can’t just—”

“Why ain’t he your husband no more?” Jesse cut him off. “Remind me why y’all got divorced.”

“You know why,” Gabriel said wearily. “He couldn’t be the head of Overwatch and be married to a man.”

“Exactly. He wanted his career more’n you, so he just threw you out like a dog. And you go crawlin’ back like a dog every time he snaps his fingers.” Jesse turned over and sat up facing him. “Look at me, Gabriel. I love you. I’d follow you to hell and back, and I’d never let you go, ‘specially not for some stupid job. Why can’t you just love me?”

Gabriel reached out and took his hands. “I do love you, Jesse. You know I do.”

“But you don’t love _just_ me. You’re still in love with Jack, too.” Jesse pulled his hands away and laid down, with his back to Gabriel. “It makes me sick seein’ how he uses you. I hate him. I hate him and I wish he was dead.”

“I know,” Gabriel said, pulling him close again. “I’m sorry, Jesse.”

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Jesse didn’t ask himself what Morrison’s got that he don’t. That kinda thing never did no one a lick of good. Specially when the answer is “everything.” He knew he wadn’t a lanky kid no more—he grew about three inches and put on twenty-odd pounds of muscle since they hauled him in—but he wadn’t shit next that Captain America lookin’ motherfucker. With his blonde-ass hair and blue eyes and a jaw that could cut glass. Like somebody took the word “perfect” and made it a walkin’, talkin’ human.

Son of a bitch knew it, too. Walked around like he owned the goddamn world. All’s he had to do was flash them baby blues at the cameras and people’d just fall all over theirselves. Everyone loved Jack Morrison. Everyone but Jesse. Jesse knew Morrison was the most ruthless, ice-cold son of a bitch this side of a great white. Only he was more dangerous, cause he was smilin’ when he was fixin’ to cut your throat. Jesse seen the man tell Reyes to “take care” of someone, then walk right over to the UN and shake his hand with a solid-gold smile. Jesse didn’t mind killin’ men as was torturin’ and starvin’ their own citizens to death on the regular, but it was fuckin’ sick how Morrison could order a man’s death and then be laughin’ with him like old friends a half hour later.

Only thing worse than knowin’ the person you loved was in love with that human razorblade would be the razorblade findin’ out you was the one pullin’ up in his rearview. Jesse didn’t want that kinda heat on him. He reckoned the Strike-Commander found out he was the competition, they’d never find his body. The boss wadn’t supposed to be fuckin’ a subordinate anyhow, so Reyes and him had to keep it under the radar, Morrison or no. Wadn’t too hard. Jesse was his second in command, so they got a good enough reason to be together all the time. They never let no one see ‘em doin’ nothin’ private. They was careful. Smart. But somehow, Morrison found out.

Him and Jesse was passin’ in the hall one day and he give Jesse a look sent icicles shootin’ right into his gut. Shook him so bad he had to high-tail it to the latrine on account of he was pretty sure he was fixin’ to puke. Morrison knew. And he wadn’t happy.

Jesse took a look in the mirror and he was white and shakin’. He splashed some water on his face and stood there lookin’ himself in the eye a minute. Then he quit shakin’. He was Jesse goddamned McCree. Ain’t nothin’ scared Jesse McCree. He got no reason to be scared of Morrison, anyhow. He ain’t done nothin’ wrong. Fact, it was Morrison who done wrong. He’s the one who let Reyes go in the first place and he’s the one been playin’ with him. Fuckin’ with his mind and makin’ him miserable. Makin’ sure he wouldn’t never be Jesse’s own. Not really.

He stared into that mirror gettin’ madder’n madder till his fist went off like gunshot. Punched right through it. He didn’t feel nothin’ but there was red all in the busted glass, so he musta cut his hand up pretty good. He got in the elevator before he noticed he was drippin’ blood on the floor. He pressed the button for the med bay and wrapped it up with his bandana.

It was soakin’ through the bandana by the time he got there, but he said he’d wait for Dr. Ziegler and wouldn’t even let the nurse look at it. Dr. Ziegler come out after a few minutes and took him into an exam room. She unwrapped it and asked how it happened. Jesse told her. She raised one of them blonde eyebrows and looked a lot like a disappointed mom.

“You are lucky you did not nick a tendon,” she said, as she went over it with her little square scanner. “I will clean it and get it sutured up for you. It will just take a few minutes.”

She switched on a bio pod and it quit hurtin’ right away. Then she held his hand real gentle and wiped it all clean with a white cloth and some kinda pink spray stuff that smelled like flowers. Then she got out a thing looked like a laser gun and told him to hold still. Jesse’s skin got hot and kinda itched wherever she pointed it, and he watched the deep cuts across his knuckles close up.

“There we are,” she said. “Good as new. Perhaps next time you decide to assault a mirror, you should consider using your prosthetic hand. It would be considerably less painful.”

“Thanks, doc,” Jesse said. He hopped down from the exam table and picked up his bloody bandana.

“Jesse, wait,” she said, stopping him with a hand on his arm. “Do you…want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “I gotta get. I’m late for a briefing.”

“Jesse, please talk to me,” she said imploringly. “You are so sad all the time lately and now this…I do not know what has happened, but there must be something.”

“Sorry, angel cake,” he said, using his silly private nickname for her. “Work’s been rough lately. I reckon I’ll perk up some once this case is done.”

She gazed searchingly into his face for a moment with her big, pale-blue eyes.

“Alright,” she said at last, still not sounding convinced. “But whenever you want to talk, I am always here for you. Please take care of yourself.”

“I will, I promise.”

With that, he tipped his hat and departed, leaving his friend looking after him with an expression of deep concern on her pretty face.

 

He went straight to the boss’s office, where the team was having a sit-down about a mission they had coming up. Reyes was sitting on the edge of his desk and the air was full of smoke, which meant the meeting was already in full swing. Jesse slipped in and shut the door softly behind him.

“Agent McCree,” Commander Reyes said, as he was taking a seat on the sofa beside Genji. “Since you’ve finally decided to join us, maybe you’d like to refresh us on the procedure for clearing a gang stronghold.”

Jesse leaned back and pushed up the brim of his hat. “Well, shootin’ everyone’s a good start.”

Several of the agents snickered.

“Outstanding,” Reyes said drily. “And what if they’re reluctant to come out and be shot?”

“I reckon I could make ‘em see it my way,” Jesse grinned. “But if they wanna argue about it, tear gas is a pretty fair rebuttal.”

“Tear gas, excellent,” Reyes said, nodding slowly, which always meant he was about to destroy your point. “Unless, of course, the gang members are Omnics. Like the members of the gang we are discussing, which you would have known, had you been here on time.”

Jesse raised his hands in surrender. “Well, I guess I walked right into that one.”

“At least you walked into it here, and not out in the field,” Reyes said, as the other agents’ laughter died down. He touched a button, and some images of humanoid Omnics appeared on the holo display on the wall. “Mão de Prata is an all-Omnic gang based in São Paulo. They started out as an Omnic liberation group and evolved with impressive alacrity into an arms trafficking cartel.”

The display flickered to close-up images of two Omnics.

“The Omnic pictured on the left is Áurea Espada, registered CS-117-AE, a security and property defense model. The one on the right is Vinícius Ferro, registered DC-038-VF, a commercial-grade service model. According to our intel, Mão de Prata’s transition from liberating their brethren to gun running occurred when Espada, the former leader of the gang, was ousted by Ferro, who is the current leader.”

The image changed to several wide shots of a building, and some aerial drone photos from overhead.

“Our initial plan of action was a sweep and clear, but the situation has evolved somewhat since our preliminary assessment. Our intel agents in-country have ascertained that Espada still has loyal supporters on the inside. If they can be contacted and are willing to cooperate, we will proceed with a view to minimizing casualties, removing the current leadership, and opening the way for Espada to return.”

“And if they ain’t?” Jesse asked.

“Then we destroy them all and let Omnic god sort ‘em out.”

“But boss, why would we want to help Espada take over again?” Agent Costa inquired. “I mean, she’s just another smuggler.”

“Excellent question,” Reyes said. “Smuggler or not, Espada is a smart woman and is willing to be reasonable. With her in control, we’ve got a negotiable situation. Without her, we’ve got a possible power vacuum in the awakened Omnic population in one of the largest cities in the world.”

“Yeah but, boss…awakened Omnics are still just rogue bots,” Agent Nguyen said. “If they get into a turf war and tear each other apart, that’s less work for us. I don’t see the problem.”

“Well, strap on your 3-D glasses, Agent Nguyen, because the times they are a-changing,” Reyes said. “Mondatta and his Shambali have the ear of the UN now. Omnic integration centers are being planned in seven major cities. As of now, there are more than twenty known Omnic liberation groups with a significant number of active members around the world. Alone, these groups do not represent a clear and present danger to international peace. However, there have been movements by several to absorb others and consolidate leadership. If this continues, we don’t have dispersed gangs, we have a militant force capable of doing material damage to integration efforts. The more we do to get the power players aligned with our interests, the more smoothly the process goes for everyone, and the sooner the Omnics have their rights. Then we can get back to dealing with criminals who have tear ducts susceptible to agent McCree’s favored form of persuasion.”

“But what if they don’t get rights?” Agent Nguyen asked. “There are still a lot of people opposed to Omnic integration.”

Reyes smiled. “Lucky for us, none of them are on our team. Isn’t that right?”

There was a chorus of “damn right,” and “absolutely boss,” and the meeting proceeded. Afterward, as everyone began to file out, Reyes beckoned to Jesse.

“Not so fast, Agent McCree,” he said sternly. “You and I need to have a chat about punctuality.”

There was no need for him to tell Jesse to stay behind, since he always did, but he was making a point about addressing his tardiness in front of the other agents. Always a good idea when one wants to avoid the appearance of too much favoritism. Effective, too. Several of them tossed Jesse sympathetic glances and hastened their exit.

“Aw, come on, boss,” Jesse said petulantly. “I wadn’t late cause I wanted to be.”

“And I look forward to hearing your reason,” Reyes said. The door shut and he turned to Jesse with a wicked gleam in his eye. “You’re setting a bad example for the team, Agent McCree. Maybe you need some discipline.”

Jesse’s dick got half-hard just hearin’ him say it, but they had to talk about this Morrison thing. Then Reyes’ heavy hand come down on the back of his neck. He pulled Jesse up against his big hard chest and put his hot mouth on his skin just above his collar. The rough bristles of his facial hair scratched as his teeth sunk in, almost hard enough to leave a bruise. Jesse shuddered all over. Fuck. Maybe just…no. They had to talk first.

“Gabriel wait,” he said. “Listen, I gotta ask you somethin’. You never, like, let anything slip about you and me to Morrison, did you?”

Reyes frowned and pulled away. “Of course not. Why would you even ask me that?”

“Cause I…I think he knows.”

“Why do you think that?” Reyes frown got darker. “Did something happen?”

Jesse shook his head. “Not really _happened_ , it was just…”

“Just what?”

“He give me a look when we was walkin’ past each other in the hall a while ago.”

“A look?” Reyes said, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “What kind of a look?”

“I dunno, boss, a look,” Jesse said impatiently. “Like he was starin’ me down or somethin’. It wadn’t nothin’ anyone else woulda noticed, but I know what I seen.”

To Jesse’s immediate and further exasperation, Reyes appeared rather relieved. “Ok, so nothing else happened? Nothing I am going to get a call about?”

“Naw, I don’t reckon,” Jesse began. Then he looked down and fiddled with the plating on his prosthetic. “Well…I dunno, maybe.”

“Christ, Jesse,” Reyes said, passing a hand over his brow. “Tell me you did not insult the Strike-Commander.”

“Boss, how the fuck stupid you think I am? But I mighta…punched a mirror in the latrine a little.”

“I see. Does that have anything to do with you showing up late without your bandana?”

“Glass sliced me up pretty good,” Jesse mumbled into his shirt front. “I had to wrap it up till I got to the med bay.”

Reyes sighed. “God damn it Jesse. Did anyone see it?”

“Naw, wadn’t anyone else in there. I called for a c-bot to go and clean it up and the doc ain’t gonna say nothin’, so it ain’t a problem.”

“Just because you cleaned up your mess doesn’t mean no one noticed you making it. Jesus, Jesse, you know you can’t act like a fucking teenaged delinquent anymore. You’re a special agent and a commissioned officer. Your behavior is subject to far more scrutiny now than it was when you were in training.”

“I don’t want to be scrutinized. I just want to do my job. I already got strikes against me with the way I got brung in and it’s hard enough without Morrison gunnin’ for me cause of you.”

“Jack is not gunning for you, Jesse. I know how you feel about him, but that doesn’t mean he feels the same way about you. I’m sure he hasn’t even—”

“Hasn’t even noticed me,” Jesse cut him off. “You think I’m too low down in the dirt for the high and mighty Strike-Commander to even bother gettin’ down from his throne to step on me, is that it?”

“That’s not what I meant, Jesse,” Reyes said wearily. “I meant I’m sure he hasn’t given much thought to you and I personally. Jack doesn’t have time to eat or sleep, let alone concern himself with our relationship.”

Jesse eyed him cagily. “How long’s it been since you and him fucked?”

“I don’t know…two months?” Reyes said cautiously. “Why?”

“There ya go,” Jesse said. “Maybe you ain’t said nothin’, but he knows and it’s your fault.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Think about it, Gabriel. You ain’t fuckin’ him no more all the sudden, he’s gotta wonder why. Then he starts lookin’ at who you spendin’ time with. That brings him straight to me. So, maybe you should…go and give him some.”

Reyes balked. “I…I don’t think—”

“Don’t matter what you think, I’m the one who’s gonna wind up cooked. You want to keep the heat off me, you go and fuck the Strike-Commander.”

“I’ve been avoiding Jack because I don’t want to hurt you,” Reyes said, pulling him close again. “I care about you.”

Jesse pried himself free. “Hurtin’ me ain’t gonna matter if I’m dead.”

“Jesse, Jack is not going to kill you,” Reyes laughed. “Is that really what you’re worried about?”

Jesse didn’t have a chance to reply, as there was a knock at the door at that moment.

“Come on in,” Reyes called out, stepping behind his desk to take his seat.

The door swung open and Jesse’s heart dropped into his boots. The Strike-Commander paused in the doorway for a split second, looking back and forth between them, then strode in.

“Good afternoon, Agent McCree,” he said briskly. “Gabe, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I was hoping to have a word with you. Do you have a minute?”

“No problem,” Reyes replied. “Jesse was just on his way out. What can I do for you, Jack?”

Jesse tugged down the brim of his hat and slunk out, avoiding eye-contact with both of his superiors. The door shut behind him, and Reyes and Morrison gazed at each other for a moment.

Reyes leaned back and crossed his arms. “Well?”

Morrison’s jaw set and worked as he stared at his second in command. When he spoke, his voice was tight and strained. “What the fuck are you doing, Gabe?”

“I’m sitting behind my desk, Jack,” Reyes replied coolly.

“Don’t play stupid with me. What the fuck are you doing with that kid?”

“What kid? What are you talking about, Jack?”

“You know who I mean and you know exactly what I am talking about, Gabe,” Morrison said, his eyes snapping with blue fire. “Please tell me you are not fucking your teenaged subordinate.”

“Jesse is not a teenager, Jack. He’s twenty-five years old.”

“Oh, I see. Twenty-five,” Morrison nodded. “That puts my mind totally at ease, then. The fact that he is half your age and your direct subordinate doesn’t matter, because technically, he is an adult.”

“Jesse _is_ an adult, Jack,” Reyes said, uncrossing his arms. “I know you never liked him, but he’s my best agent and he’s one of the only people in the world I trust with my life.”

Morrison blinked. “I…never liked him? Is that what you’ve been telling him?”

“No, I haven’t—”

“Christ,” Morrison sighed, falling into a chair. “So that’s the reason he looks at me like I shot his dog? Because you’ve been telling him…what? That I hold his criminal past against him? That I think he’s scum? What is it, Gabe?”

“You did hold his past against him,” Reyes pointed out, perhaps unwisely. “I had to fight you tooth and nail to bring him on and you still don’t like him.”

“Yes, you did. And you said he would prove himself. And as far as I can see, he has. I have heard nothing but positive accounts from his coworkers and the senior staff. They say he is hardworking, respectful, eager to learn, and gets along with everyone he meets. And yet, every time I have tried to engage with him, he has thrown it in my face. He pays me the bare minimum of respect and is very clearly nursing some kind of personal antipathy toward me.”

“He knows you didn’t want to bring him on because you told him so to his face, Jack. How is that my fault?”

“Because this has nothing to do with what I thought of him then,” Morrison said, catching Reyes’ gaze with his ice-blue eyes and holding it. “If Jesse were the type of man to hold a petty grudge like that, you wouldn’t keep him around. He hates me because he’s in love with you.”

“He doesn’t…hate you.”

“But he is in love with you.”

Reyes tore his eyes away and crossed his arms again, gazing down at the floor.

“Christ, Gabe,” Morrison sighed. “What the fuck are you doing? How could you be so selfish and careless? Do you have any idea how badly you are going to hurt him? If you wanted to fuck a hot younger man, there are professionals everywhere. Prostitution is legal here, if you don’t recall, and those men are not your immediate subordinates who you have to work with every day.”

“No. No, it wasn’t like that,” Reyes said weakly. “I…I love him. I love him, Jack.”

“You say you love me, too. And look where we are.”

“We got divorced because we had to, Jack. I never stopped loving you, and you know it. Not for a second. You are still my husband, no matter what a legal piece of paper says.”

“Then why have you been lying to me about Jesse?” Morrison demanded. “Why have you been hiding it from me?”

Reyes laid back in his chair, massaging his brow with his fingertips. “Because I knew you wouldn’t understand. I knew you wouldn’t be able to look past his age and his history, not to mention the fact that he works for me, and see what I see in him.”

“You haven’t given me a chance,” Morrison said angrily. “You’ve been fucking him behind my back, Gabe. That was not the agreement. We knew we wouldn’t be able to be together the way we want to, but we promised we’d never lie to each other, and that we would never let our extra-curricular activities supersede our time together. We haven’t slept together in seven weeks. Seven, Gabe. I’d call that superseding, wouldn’t you?”

“Jack…I’m sorry. I don’t mean to neglect you, but it hurts him when I’m with you. He doesn’t understand. He’s—”

“Too young?”

“No, I was going to say that he’s not like us. He doesn’t understand our relationship.”

“Did you ask him?”

Reyes looked up, confused. “Ask him…what?”

“Did you ask him how he feels about this. Us. Did you actually give him a chance to decide for himself, or did you just assume you knew how he’d react and undertake to protect his feelings on your own.”

“I…I know how he’d react.”

“The same way you knew how I’d react to the idea of him?”

“You are reacting exactly the way I thought you would, Jack!” Reyes said, throwing his arms out in exasperation. “You’re in my office in the middle of the day lecturing me about fucking a teenaged subordinate, aren’t you?”

“Gabe, listen to me very carefully,” Morrison said patiently. “I am angry with you because you have been lying to me and you have been hurting that kid. You should know better. And you should have known that it would come out one way or another, and when it did, it would break his heart. It was selfish, irresponsible, and incredibly stupid.”

Reyes covered his face again and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

“I know,” he said, after a long pause. “I know, Jack. But he got to me. He got into my blood. He kissed me out of nowhere and I just…I couldn’t stop myself. I fell so hard. You don’t have to tell me I fucked up. I know I did. But I have no idea how to unfuck it now.”

“I think you do.”

“I guess I do,” Reyes said hoarsely. “I just don’t know if I can. It’ll to kill me to hurt him like that.”

Much to the discomfiture of his co-commander, Morrison laughed outright. “You think I want you to break it off with him?”

Reyes blinked at him. “Don’t you?”

“You really are a fucking idiot, Gabe,” he said softly. “You always underestimate people. If he means this much to you, why would I ask you to give that up?”

“But…you said I knew how to unfuck everything. I thought you meant…what do you mean, Jack?”

“I mean that if you really love him, and you really think he’s an adult capable of making his own choices, you have to come clean with him. Explain our situation. Let him decide for himself.”

“But you would…you would be ok with me telling him? We’ve never told anyone. No one knows about us but Ana.”

“If you say you trust him, I trust you. And if he’d stop treating me like I’m Satan incarnate, who knows. Maybe we could…learn to like each other.”

“So, you admit you don’t like him,” Reyes said, cocking an eyebrow.

“You’re on very thin ice, Commander Reyes, don’t push it,” Morrison said flatly. “The truth is, I have always liked Jesse. But you destroyed any chance we had at even being friendly by lying to both of us and placing us in opposition to each other without any context. I am giving you an opportunity to make it right.”

Reyes shook his head, hesitating. “I don’t know, Jack. This sounds…volatile. You don’t know Jesse like I do.”

“I know he put his fist through a mirror this morning after I passed him in the hall. You think telling him the truth could make him feel any worse than he’s feeling now?”

“I guess not,” Reyes said, biting his lip thoughtfully. “I think…I think you’re wrong, though.”

“The thinnest ice, Gabe,” Morrison said warningly.

“No, hear me out.” Reyes sat forward, rubbing his hands together. “I think you and him should hash this out, man to man.”

“How convenient,” Morrison laughed. “So you get to avoid the hard part and escape the fallout if he goes ballistic.”

“I know how it sounds, but listen. I can explain the situation to him and tell him you don’t hate him till I’m blue in the face, but he’ll never totally believe me. There will always be some doubt in his mind. Unless you approach him first. Let him see that you respect him as a man. Let him get to know you. Get to know him. You two have a lot more in common than you think.”

Morrison arched a blonde eyebrow. “Are you trying to set me up with your boyfriend, Gabe?”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Reyes grinned. “I’d be pretty much living the dream.”

“Asshole,” Morrison said, shaking his head. “I do take your point, though. I think…I think you may be right.” He took a long breath and let it out slowly. “Ok. Send him to my office later this afternoon. Don’t tell him what we talked about, though, or he’ll think I’m out to kill him and he won’t come.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Reyes said incredulously. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Morrison said. “You know me, Gabe. Once I make up my mind, I don’t tend to do a lot of dilly-dallying and second-guessing. Send him at 1800, after my last appointments.”

“I…ok, I will,” Reyes said, as Morrison rose to leave. “Jack, you, uh…you’re not going to kill him, right?”

“You’re the one I’m angry with and you’re still alive,” Morrison shrugged. “1800 hours. I’ll be waiting.”

“Jack, wait,” Reyes called. “One more thing.”

Morrison turned to look at him. “What?”

“Will you marry me?”

“Fuck off.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Jesse approached the Strike-Commander’s office with heavy steps. Reyes give him some bullshit about a safety issue, but he knew that wadn’t it. He was right and Morrison was gunnin’ for him. Why the fuck else he gotta get reamed out by his boss’s boss over some little thing like a busted mirror? He paused outside the glass double-doors of the reception area and took a deep breath to steady himself, but he wadn’t shakin’ or nothin’.

He wadn’t as scared as he maybe shoulda been, but Jesse was brung up to this kinda thing in the Deadlocks. The dust-scoured wastes of New Mexico was wild country run by gangs of outlaws, where petty overlords was always beatin’ their chests and showin’ off to remind everyone they was at the top of the heap of trash. He knew when to show his belly when some boss wanted to feel important, and he knew when to bare his teeth and remind ‘em he wadn’t an easy target. He just had to suss out which kind Morrison was and adapt, same as dealin’ with them gang bosses. Difference was, them fellas would shoot you in the face soon as look at you. Despite what he’d said to Reyes about keepin’ the heat off him, he knew Morrison had to look like a law-abidin’ man and he wadn’t gonna kill him here, at least.

He strolled in and tipped his hat to the lieutenant at the reception desk, who smiled and told him to go right in, the Strike-Commander was expecting him. Jesse took off his hat as he stepped in through the open door. The lights in the cavernous office were dimmed, and the place was mostly dark. The man was standing and looking out one of the huge, floor-to-ceiling windows, with his back to Jesse.

“Agent McCree,” he said, without turning around. “Come on in. Shut the door, please.”

Jesse shut the door and then stood there fiddling with his hat, not sure what to do next. Morrison kept gazing out the window into the deepening twilight over the lush green hills of the Swiss countryside. After a moment, he beckoned to Jesse, who stepped up to the window and stood awkwardly beside him.

“Everything looks so peaceful and perfect from up here, doesn’t it?” the Strike-Commander said. His voice was husky and smoky, like he breathed in a whole forest fire.

“Yes, sir. It does, sir,” Jesse said, casting a brief, sidelong glance at him.

The commander’s strong jaw and aristocratic profile stood out in relief against the soft, golden-yellow light from a lamp on the other side of the room. His shoulders were relaxed and his hands were clasped behind his back, like one of them paintings of famous war heroes. Jesse felt instantly dwarfed in the man’s presence. In reality, he only stood an inch or two taller than Jesse, but he had a way of towering, even when he was just standin’ there lookin’ out at the trees and shit.

“It isn’t, though,” Morrison said. He pointed to a dell between hills, shaded by a lush forest. “You see that valley, with all the trees? From here, all we can see is the illusion of a uniform surface created by the millions of leaves on those trees. If we walked down there, beneath the trees, we’d find roads and shops and street lights, and thousands of people going about their business. It’d be unrecognizable. Just like viewing Earth from outer space. It looks so beautiful and serene, a little globe of green and blue, shining in the blackness.” He sighed. “Up close…this world is tearing itself apart. Strange how perspective impacts our understanding, isn’t it?”

“I reckon…it’s easy to misunderstand things from a distance,” Jesse said cautiously, wary of being led into a trap.

“Exactly,” Morrison nodded, still gazing out the window. “That’s why when we want to understand something, it’s crucial to get up close to and investigate thoroughly for ourselves. Otherwise, we risk forming an erroneous judgement which, if we act upon it, could lead us into grave mistakes.”

Jesse felt his face get hot all the sudden. The Strike-Commander wadn’t even lookin’ at him, but for some reason he felt like he was bein’ seen without his clothes on. He was glad they was lookin’ out the window, so the man didn’t see his face all red. Of course, just as he was thinking this, the Strike-Commander turned to him. Jesse done his best to seem confident, but he knew he was flinchin’ like a kicked dog.

“Come sit,” the man said, indicating to the blue sofa at the end of the room. “Let’s talk.”

Jesse went and sat, then watched from under his eyelashes as the Strike-Commander removed his blue duster, hung it on a coat rack, and then took a seat on the easy chair across from the sofa. He sat there gazing at Jesse with those icy-blue eyes, brilliant and piercing even in the low light. Jesse raked his fingers self-consciously through his shaggy mop of hair and tried not to look like he was fixin’ to piss himself.

“Jesse, you are something of singularity here,” the Strike-Commander began at last. “You are the only agent we have ever recruited in the field, and the only one we have brought on board before the age of twenty. You were orphaned at twelve, you have no formal education past primary school, and you spent your formative years as a member of a violent criminal organization. Your rap sheet contains a laundry list of offenses ranging from petty theft to armed robbery, to arms trafficking and homicide. Is all of that correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Jesse said, keeping his eyes on the floor.

“That is a description of Special Agent Jesse McCree,” Morrison continued, “which is accurate from a distance. If I were to form an opinion of Jesse McCree based on this description, would you say I had enough information to make a fair judgement? Or would you say I had only examined the surface, and come to an erroneous conclusion based upon that limited perspective.”

“I…I don’t know, sir,” Jesse said, bewildered. “I don’t reckon I’d say any of them things.”

“This isn’t a trap, Jesse,” Morrison said. “You can speak candidly.”

Jesse mustered up his courage and looked him right back in his blue eyes. The man’s expression was unreadable, but Jesse was gettin’ a pretty fair idea what kinda boss he was, and it wadn’t neither of the ones the gang bosses was. He was somethin’ else. He had nothing to prove and no need to assert his dominance. He had real power. The kind that weighs so heavy on a man, you can almost see him bowin’ under the burden of it. He felt an unexpected pang of something like sympathy for him. _Heavy is the head that wears the crown._  

“All them things is true,” Jesse said, in a more composed voice than he had been able to manage before. “So, I’d say you got a fair bit of the picture, but it ain’t the whole thing. I been here six years, sir. I can tell you I changed till my tongue falls off, but I reckon you can see that for yourself, else you wouldn’ta brung it up. Unless you was meanin’ to insult me, which—beggin’ your pardon—I don’t reckon you was.”

Morrison cocked his head ever so slightly to one side. “What makes you say that?”

“Say which, sir?”

“What makes you say you don’t believe I meant to insult you by bringing up your past?”

“It don’t seem like your way a doin’ things, sir,” Jesse said, maintaining his gaze. “You already know you the one in control. You got no reason to try and make me feel it.”

“Interesting,” Morrison said thoughtfully. “Why did you put your fist through that mirror this morning?”

The sudden left-hook hit Jesse squarely in the chest, and it took him a split-second to recover. He looked down at his hat, then back up into Morrison’s face.

“Beggin’ your pardon again, sir, but I reckon you know why I done it. I wouldn’t be sittin’ here, otherwise.”

Jesse watched his face real close while he said it, but Morrison didn’t even blink. He just sat there looking into him with them bright-blue laser beams, like he was readin’ everything goin’ on in Jesse’s head right through his skull.

“So, you must know why I wanted to meet with you, then,” he said placidly. “If you’ve worked out that I know about you and Commander Reyes.”

Jesse’s brow knit and he fidgeted with his hat some more.

“I thought I did, sir,” he said, after a pause. “I ain’t so sure now. You kinda knocked me for a loop, here.”

“How’s that?”

“I guess…I thought you’d be mad, but I can’t tell if you are or you ain’t. I can’t read you at all.”

“You read people very well, normally. Gabe tells me he trusts your opinion of a man more than his own. He says you’re a bloodhound for character.”

“You ain’t sayin that to flatter me, so I ain’t gonna bother denyin’ it. Most folks ain’t as hard to read as they like to think. Some is pretty deep, but they still just people, and we all more alike than we like to think, too. Ain’t too many different things people want. Once you work out what’s really important to a man, you know his character.”

“What’s important to me?”

Jesse looked at him for a moment, hesitating, then shook his head. “I don’t know, sir. I can’t read you, like I said.”

“I think you can,” Morrison said, leaning forward in his chair. “I think you know exactly what drives and motivates me. I think you’re the only person who has figured it out in all these years. But I think you’re afraid to admit it to yourself. It’s easier to villainize and hate me, and blame me for your pain, than to face the reality of the situation.”

Jesse stared at him wide-eyed, staggered by the deadly accuracy with which the human razorblade had cut through to the core of him, and laid him bare before his own eyes. He felt like he shoulda been angry bein’ called out like that, but he was simply in awe.

“My…my pain?” he stammered.

“Yes,” Morrison said calmly. “You are in pain, Jesse. You are afraid Gabe doesn’t love you, and you think I am the reason.”

This second well-aimed gut punch knocked the wind out of Jesse, and he had no breath left to reply. He sat looking helplessly into Morrison’s intense, sapphire-blue eyes. He was utterly defenseless and at this man’s mercy. All the fight left him and he hung his head, waiting to be crushed beneath the Strike-Commander’s perfectly polished boot.

“Jesse, sit up,” Morrison said firmly. “Look at me.”

Jesse blinked up at him.

“So, do you know why I called you here?”

Jesse shook his head heavily. It felt like it was full of lead weights that was rollin’ from one side to the other when he moved it.

“I called you here to talk because I know you love Gabe. I love him, too. So, unless you and I understand each other, this is going to be very painful for all of us.”

Jesse sat there staring dumbly at the Strike-Commander’s hair, thinking how blonde it was and wondering if Gabriel ever wished he was blonde, too. Morrison considered him shrewdly for a long moment, then he smiled a tight, thin-lipped smile.

“I’m sorry to ambush you like this, Jesse,” he said, in a smooth, diplomatic tone that made Jesse’s skin crawl. “But Gabe has fucked up colossally, and I am trying my best to get the situation in hand before it derails entirely.”

Jesse made himself focus on the blue eyes again and nodded.

“Let me put it to you this way,” Morrison said, spreading his hands before him, as if he was making an offer. “Legal documents notwithstanding, Gabe is my husband. I have no intention of letting him go, unless he wants to be let go, which I assure you, he does not. So, I have to ask you this. Knowing what he and I are to each other, are you willing to end things between the two of you and step back graciously? Keep in mind, if you say yes, I give you my word that this misunderstanding will be put totally behind us. There will be no detrimental impact on your career whatsoever. In fact, you may find yourself advancing more quickly on the pay scale, if you showed yourself to be so…adaptable.”

And there it was. Easy as pie. A ticket outta this nightmare handed to him on a silver platter. Just agree to let Reyes go and everything would be business as usual. No Morrison gunnin’ for him, no more nights wonderin’ why Gabriel wadn’t back yet. No more sneakin’ around and worryin’ about what’d happen to him if they was found out. And he’d even get a little extra cash into the deal.

“Fuck you!” Jesse snarled, jumping up from his seat. His vision was suddenly clear and focused and the light of battle was in his eyes.

“I beg your pardon?” the Strike-Commander said incredulously.

“I said fuck you, sir,” Jesse spat. “How dare you come at me like that. I love Gabriel. I’d die for him. I reckon you gonna make that a reality for me pretty quick, so I’ll say my piece.” He was sick to his stomach and his body was trembling all over with the adrenaline, but he pressed on. “Strike-Commander or no, you got no right to insult my honor by offerin’ me a bribe to leave the man I love. If you want to kill me like a honest gentleman, you go right ahead. If you want to throw me in the lockup and make my life miserable, do your worst. But I love Gabriel. I love him and nothin’ you can do with all your power is gonna change that.”

Morrison gazed at him silently, with another of his unreadable expressions. Jesse sat back down on the sofa and placed his hat firmly on his head. He crossed his arms and glared defiantly at the Strike-Commander, though he was quaking inside. He hoped he’d be allowed to say goodbye, at least, to the man he was fixin’ to die for.

“I hope…” Morrison said slowly. “I hope that Gabe appreciates what he has. And I wish he had treated you better from the beginning. I’ll see to it that he does, from now on.”

Some of the defiance drained out of Jesse’s posture. “What—what are you talkin’ about?”

“I’m sorry I upset you, Jesse, but I had to be sure,” Morrison said, in an uncharacteristically gentle tone. “I had to be sure you loved Gabe enough to stand up to me, and to refuse an offer like that.”

Jesse swallowed hard. “So, you ain’t…gonna kill me?”

“Of course not,” Morrison laughed. “Gabe, maybe, but you’re not at fault in any of this. You seem pretty shaken up. Can I get you a drink?”

Jesse blinked uncomprehendingly and stopped just short of rubbing his eyes with his fists like a character in a cartoon. The sudden, total change in the man took his breath away. The icy, austere Strike-Commander was gone, replaced by a blonde man who looked like him, but was in all other ways his near opposite. That soft, boyish smile. That warm, throaty laugh…holy fucking shit. Where had this man been hiding?

“I’m sorry, sir, but what the fuck is goin’ on here?”

Morrison rose from his chair. “Let me get us a drink and we’ll talk about it, ok?”

Jesse watched dumbly while this blonde man who used to be the Strike-Commander poured scotch from a crystal decanter into some heavy highball glasses, then sat down beside him on the sofa and handed him one.

“I want to apologize again for the things I said just now,” Morrison said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “I didn’t think you’d actually agree to such an insulting proposal, but as I said, I had to be certain I’d judged you correctly. I’m pleased to see that I did.”

“So, you don’t…I don’t—” Jesse attempted, then paused and started over. “So, if you ain’t gonna kill me and you ain’t really tryina buy me off to make me go away…what are you gonna do to me?”

“Do to you? Nothing. I called you in here to talk, because I think you have judged me based on what you saw from a limited perspective. I want to give you an opportunity to conduct your own investigation, up close, without the distance and the lens of rank and power between us. If this is going to work, you and I are going to have to understand each other.”

“If, uh…if what’s gonna work?”

“This,” Morrison said, gesturing to encompass both of them. “I would like you and I to come to an agreement between ourselves.”

“Sorry, sir, you gonna have to dumb it down a shade. I still ain’t gettin’ it.”

“Jesse, Gabe lied to me about his relationship with you. He lied to you about his relationship with me. Despite that, we both love him, and neither of us has any intention of giving him up. So, like it or not, we are in this together now.”

“Together,” Jesse repeated. “You and—and me?”

“Yes,” Morrison said. “You and me. I don’t want this to be a situation where if we want Gabe, we’ve got to take each other, too. So, I’d like us to get to know each other. Spend time together without Gabe as a buffer.”

“You want to spend time…with me,” Jesse said stupidly. It was beginning to dawn on him what this implied, but he was still unable to make his mind process it.

“Look, I know you don’t know me as anything other than the Strike-Commander and Gabe’s evil ex-husband, or whatever you probably thought of me, but—”

“I want to know you,” Jesse blurted out. Then he turned beet red and looked down into his whiskey. “I mean, I’d like that too, sir.”

Morrison laughed and stuck out his hand as if they were actually being introduced. “Jack Morrison, nice to meet you. You can call me Jack.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” Jesse mumbled, shaking his hand mechanically. “But…not really, right?”

“Not really what?”

“You don’t really want me callin’ you by your first name.”

“Not when other people are around, obviously,” Jack said. “But yes, I would like it if you would. I’d prefer not to be called ‘sir’ by someone I’m intimate with.”

Jesse almost spit out his whiskey, then he swallowed it the wrong way and doubled over, coughing and sputtering.

“Christ, I’m not that horrible, am I?” Jack laughed, patting his back.

“Fuckin’ hell, sir,” Jesse rasped, when he was able to breathe again. “You gotta warn a fella ‘fore you drop some shit like that on him. You want me and you to, uh…you know…?”

“I meant ‘intimate’ in the social sense,” Jack explained, still laughing. “It means sharing personal confidences and mutual respect with someone.”

Jesse flushed crimson. “Oh. Well, I feel like three kinds of idiot. I didn’t mean no offense, sir, I swear.”

“I’m not offended,” Jack said tranquilly. “Is that something you’d be interested in? Having sex with me?”

“Sweet baby Jesus,” Jesse breathed, collapsing against the back of the sofa. “I knew it. You are tryina kill me.”

“I can’t tell if that’s a yes or a no,” Jack said, squinting one eye at him.

“I can’t…I just can’t wrap my head around it. I mean, you must be fuckin’ with me, but you don’t seem like you are and I just don’t know what think, sir.”

“Jack.”

“Jack, right,” Jesse said, with a half-hysterical little laugh. “I’ll just call you Jack. And you ain’t gonna kill me for fuckin’ your husband and we’re gonna be friends just like that.”

“This must be pretty overwhelming,” Jack said. “Again, I apologize for springing it on you all at once. My intention was to rip off the proverbial Band-Aid quickly, and spare you as much unnecessary emotional turmoil as possible.”

Jesse laid a hand on his brow and looked up at him pathetically. “Please, just…tell me what’s gonna happen. I’m real confused.”

“Ideally, you and Gabe will continue your relationship, with one modification. I will be part of it. We will all be equal partners. No one will be treated as less valid, and no one’s feelings or needs will be ignored. Most importantly, we will be honest with each other. Does that sound like something you’d be willing to try?”

“Well, if the other option is tanglin’ with you…I reckon I ain’t got a choice.”

Jack frowned. “Jesse, Gabe put us in this position, not me. I am doing my best, here. I am asking you to give my solution a chance, not trying to coerce you into anything.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean that like it sounded,” Jesse said contritely. “But you gotta understand how I’d be shook up. I come in here thinkin’ we was enemies and rarin’ for a fight. And now you talkin’ about totally changin’ everything I know about me and Gabriel and you, and my head’s a mess. I gotta think. I gotta find out what Gabriel’s gonna think.”

“He knows.”

“He knows…which part?”

“All of it. We didn’t verbally agree to anything specific, but he knows how this works.”

“And it’s what he wants?”

“He doesn’t get to decide,” Jack shrugged. “He made this mess and he’s going to have to live with how we choose to clean it up. But I honestly doubt he’ll have a problem with getting laid regularly and not having to hurt either of us to do it.”

“Well, when you put it that way…I guess we got a deal,” Jesse said, holding out his hand.

Jack smiled and shook it. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

“Yeah,” Jesse said shakily, raising his glass. “Here’s to hopin’ this ain’t a total train wreck.”

Jack returned the toast and they sat sipping their scotch in silence for a long moment. Jesse took the opportunity to study the Strike-Commander over the rim of his glass. He wondered if the man woke up lookin’ like that, or if he had a whole team of people who combed and polished him up like a show horse. 

“Jesse,” Jack said, fixing him with his big blue eyes again. “Are you attracted to me, physically?”

“Oh I, uh,” Jesse shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I mean, I got eyes and my marksmanship records say they work just fine, so…”

“I guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” Jack smiled. “You didn’t answer my question before. Would be interested in having sex with me?”

Jesse nearly choked on his whiskey again, but managed to get it down the right pipe this time. “I don’t…I don’t know what to, uh…what’s the right answer here, Jack?”

“I just want you to be honest. No right or wrong answer.”

“How honest?”

Jack arched a blonde eyebrow. “As honest as you think I can handle.”

“Ok, but remember, you asked,” Jesse said. He drained his glass in one go and set it down. “Truth is, I been jerkin’ off to you since I was fourteen. Lookin’ at your pictures was the way I figured out I was into dudes. So, I guess that’s your answer.”

“Wow,” Jack laughed. “That’s very flattering. And weird.”

“Hey, you said to be honest,” Jesse grinned. “Don’t ask for the truth if you ain’t ready to hear some weird shit.”

“I did, and thank you for being frank. I appreciate it.” Jack paused and looked thoughtfully into his glass, then back up at Jesse with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Speaking of being honest, how would you like to help me punish Gabe a little bit for lying to us?”

“I might be open to the idea,” Jesse said, smiling slyly. “What did you have in mind?”

“Gabe sent you up here to talk to me. It’s been more than an hour and you haven’t come back, so right now, he’s sitting in his office worrying about it. In about ten minutes, he’s going to decide we’ve either killed each other or come to an understanding by now, and he’s going to come up here to find out how fucked he is. So, I say we give him something to find.”

“Somethin’ like…what?”

“Nothing too serious,” Jack said. “It will require you to take off your shirt and make out with me a little, if you think you can stand it.”

Jesse’s limbs went wobbly, but he managed to keep his voice steady. “I’m listenin’.”

“So, when Gabe shows up, he’ll find the door locked. He has access, but it’ll put him on alert that something is up. He’ll come in anyway and when he does, he’ll find us on the couch in a highly compromising position.”

“Uh, no offense, sir,” Jesse said doubtfully, “but that don’t sound like much of a punishment to me.”

“Oh, it will be. Because he won’t get to stay and watch. We just have to let him see us all hot and heavy, then I’ll kick him out and we’ll let him sweat for a while. Hopefully, he’ll spend that time thinking about what he’s done.”

“And what are—” Jesse broke off and cleared his throat. “What are we doin’? While he’s sweatin’ it out.”

To Jesse’s astonishment, Jack’s cheeks flushed rosy pink, and he lowered his eyelashes over his blue eyes. “I suppose that’ll depend on how, uh…how everything goes. We’ll have to play it by ear.”

Jesse wavered on the decision point for a breathless second. Then he stood abruptly and unbuttoned his shirt. Jack remained seated, watching him as he dropped it on the floor and peeled off his black undershirt. His chest was broad and square, and bore a thick, curly patch of hair, set attractively across his pectoral muscles. Another line of dark hair led the eye down his trim middle, between the chiseled ridges of his abdomen, terminating at his waistband, where his trousers were slung low enough to emphasize the defined v-shape of his iliac crest.

Jesse was well aware of the excellent shape he was in, but he hooked his thumbs in his pockets and dropped his head self-consciously, letting his shaggy, chestnut-brown hair fall over his face. Then he looked up at Jack and smiled through his tousled bangs. The effect, as intended, was devastating. Jack’s chest visibly rose and fell with his accelerated respiration as his eyes drifted up and down his body.

“Come on, commander,” Jesse laughed. “You want to be in the show, you better get in costume.”

“Right,” Jack said, seeming to shake himself.

He stood to remove his uniform top and hung it neatly over the back of the chair. Jesse promptly picked it up and tossed it on the floor.

“You know anyone stops and hangs up their shirts real nice in a fit of passion?” he said, in response to Jack’s bewildered expression.

Jack smiled his understanding and stripped out of his white undershirt, which joined Jesse’s on the floor beside the sofa.

Jesse stared at him in undisguised admiration. The man was perfect all over. His body was a bit broader than Jesse’s, smooth-skinned and golden-tanned, hard and muscular, without an ounce of fat or a single flaw anywhere to be seen.

“Hoo, boy,” Jesse said, rubbing his hands together nervously. “Ok, then. How d’you wanna do this?”

“I guess…I’ll lie on the sofa and you can, uh—you know.”

“Got it,” Jesse nodded.

Jack laid down on the sofa with one leg stretched out along the seat and one foot on the floor. Jesse knelt in the space between his legs and began to cautiously lower himself onto Jack’s body. Jack’s strong hands came up around his waist, pulling him closer, till their bare chests were pressed together.

“Kiss me, Jesse,” Jack said, sliding his hands up Jesse’s back. “It’s ok. Kiss me.”

Jesse’s head felt light and giddy, and he still wasn’t entirely convinced this was real. The man he’d idolized as a kid, then hated as an adult—up till a little while ago—was lying here skin to skin with him, giving him permission to kiss him. He screwed up his courage and leaned in. He felt Jack’s hot breath on his face as their lips brushed softly against each other. Blood rushed in his ears. His heart was pounding so hard, he was sure Jack could feel it, and his stomach was fluttering like he swallowed a whole mess of pissed-off butterflies.

Then Jack’s hand slid up onto the back of his neck. Jesse shuddered and melted into him, covering that perfect mouth with his and kissing him like his life depended on it. Jack groaned softly into the kiss, as their tongues caressed and rolled over each other. He held onto Jesse’s ass with his free hand and rocked his hips, pressing their hard cocks against each other through their pants.

“Oh—oh fuck,” Jesse gasped, pulling back to catch his breath.

He looked down into Jack’s eyes, alluring and lovely, with his pupils blown wide and black in the bright-blue irises. He felt a sudden, disorienting sensation of dropping through space, as if he’d tripped and was falling into those eyes. He surrendered to it. Let go and fell into another deep, urgent kiss. Jesse had already forgotten all about putting on a show for Gabriel. He reached down between them started unfastening Jack’s belt. Jack didn’t stop him, so he unbuttoned his fly, too, worked his hand inside the waistband of Jack’s briefs, and took hold of his cock. Jack gasped and bit into the meat of Jesse’s shoulder as Jesse circled his thumb around the leaking slit.

“That feel good, darlin’?” Jesse crooned in his ear, squeezing and stroking him teasingly.

“Yeah—ah!” Jack panted through wet, kiss-bruised lips. “Don’t stop.”

“Hitch your pants down a little,” Jesse said, pushing himself up onto his knees.

Jack lifted his ass and worked his blue trousers and briefs down around his upper thighs. Jesse did the same, freeing his own achingly-hard cock from the constrictive layers of clothing. He stroked it idly for a moment, gazing down at Jack’s naked body. Of course the man’s dick was as perfect as the rest of him. Not as heavy and girthy as Gabriel’s, but just as long. Smooth and straight and rigid as rebar. Circumcised, too, so the round, ruddy head was exposed and glistening against his flat stomach.

Jesse held out his hand palm up. Jack took his meaning immediately, and craned his neck up to spit into it. Jesse wrapped it around both their cocks and dipped his chin, letting a long, clear stream of drool drizzle out of his mouth over the heads. Jack gazed up at him with hazy, heavy-lidded eyes, as he slowly pumped their spit-slicked shafts.

“It ok if I fuck you like this?” Jesse purred.

Jack nodded and reached for him. Supporting himself with his prosthetic arm, Jesse lowered his body onto Jack’s. He held his fist firm enough for them both to fuck into and began to thrust. He’d jerked himself off to this exact scenario countless times in the long, black, solitary desert nights, and he wasn’t about to rush it, now that it was really happening. So he kept his pace slow and steady, amber-brown eyes locked onto Jack’s blue ones.

“Just—just like that…fuck,” Jack rasped, in his smoky, rough-edged voice.

He twined his fingers in Jesse’s hair and pressed their foreheads together, licking and sucking his lips as he bucked his hips up and down, fucking into Jesse’s fist and Jesse’s cock. The heat and intoxicating scent of Jack’s body, his wet, searching mouth, the rough slide of their cocks moving together in his fist made Jesse’s head spin. His balls felt tight and heavy, aching with the building pressure. With each tantalizing stroke, throbs of pleasure went pulsing up the shaft of his dick and coiled up into a knot in his belly. 

“I’ma come real soon,” he panted against Jack’s lips. “You close?”

“S—so close,” Jack stammered, equally breathless. “Fuck me, Jesse. Fuck me!”

His face and chest were flushed pink, their mingled sweat beading and running down into his silky blonde hair. His body tensed up and started shaking. Jesse thrust harder, tightening his fist and pistoning his hips as he felt Jack’s cock swell and heat up. Jack bit into his shoulder to stifle his cry as he came, cock flexing and pulsing against Jesse’s, spurting warm, slippery fluid between their stomachs. The sudden slickness ramped up Jesse’s sensitivity and he came with a strangled groan, draining the tension from his balls in intense, aching bursts.

He blinked dazedly at their milky-white mess, thinking how pretty it looked spattered all over Jack’s flat, golden-tanned stomach. Then Jack gave a husky laugh and pulled him down into another kiss. Jesse collapsed onto him laid there basking in the post climax euphoria, shivering as Jack stroked his back with his fingertips, raising goosebumps all over his damp skin.

“Glad to see you two have come to and understanding.”

Jesse gave a start at the electrifying jolt of unexpectedly hearing a voice from the shadows. He tried to push himself up, but Jack had him trapped firmly in his arms.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” he panted, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. “How the fuck you get in here, boss? I damn near pissed myself.”

“Oops,” Jack laughed indolently. “I guess I forgot to lock the door. Hi, Gabe.”

“Hi, Jack,” Commander Reyes said, from where he was seated in the easy chair a few feet away, on the other side of the coffee table. “The door _was_ unlocked. You two are lucky it was me who came in, and not Lieutenant Park.”

“How long have you—stop that, stay put—how long have you been here?” Jack asked (the interjection was to Jesse, who had been attempting to get up again).

“Long enough,” Reyes said, with a devilish grin. “So, I guess I can assume the talk went well?”

“Exceedingly,” Jack sighed, lazily petting Jesse’s hair. “Except you were supposed to be punished, not rewarded.”

“Punished, huh? How, exactly?”

“You were supposed to find the door locked and knock like a normal person, then come barging in anyway, and see us making out. Then I was going to kick you out and make you sit around wondering what we were doing in here without you.”

“That would’ve showed me,” Reyes smirked. He cast an eye on his junior officer. “Jesse, you seem to be enjoying yourself.”

“Yes, he is,” Jack said, before Jesse could open his mouth. “And he’s staying right here until we feel like getting up.”

“Sorry, boss,” Jesse grinned. “Strike-Commander outranks you. I gotta do what he says.”

“I’ll Strike-Commander you, pendejo. Just you wait till—”

“Shut it, Gabe,” Jack cut him off. “You’ve been an inexcusable bastard. Don’t think you’re out of the doghouse yet, with either of us.”

Reyes sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, cursing under his breath in Spanish.

“Jack?” Jesse said timidly, after a pause. “I’m gettin’ kinda cold. And sticky. Can I go clean up now?”

“Of course,” Jack said, loosing his grasp. “There are fresh towels in my private restroom, through there. Could you bring me one too, please?”

Jesse peeled himself out of the sticky mess between them and awkwardly hitched up his pants, as he strode off and disappeared through the door Jack had indicated. Jack pulled up his briefs and trousers, then sat up and gazed at Commander Reyes across the darkened room.

“Well?” Reyes said quietly. “What do you think?”

Jack glanced toward the restroom door and smiled. “I think you found a keeper.”

 

 

 


End file.
